Meals leave memories, some to treasure, some best forgotten. For a special occasion several years back, I decided along with a few friends to dine at a restaurant that had such a wonderful reputation, it was difficult to get a reservation. The restaurant ticked all the boxes: friendly staff, beautiful ambiance and a menu to get my mouth watering. I had even fasted for the day so I could savor every morsel. I essentially wanted to order everything on the menu but, with some careful decision-making, managed to narrow it down.

When the food came, it looked divine. I started to eat and was shocked to find myself struggling to swallow my food! I looked at my friend, also a big foodie, and saw that she was having the same problem. With the main course, we experienced the same thing. It wasn't that the flavor was bad; I simply had difficulty eating it.

When I took a trip to the restroom, I decided to take a peek into the kitchen—it was one of those aha! moments. There were two chefs in there, and both looked like they could murder someone! Perhaps they were just having a bad day, but it was obvious that they were not happy. It was clear to me in that moment that the reason I was having difficulty eating the food was that it was lacking in that magical quality. I call it love .